


Protection Detail

by caleprwrite



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, HYDRA Knock-off Serum, Human Experimentation, Implied non-con elements, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Minor Character Death, Miscommunication, Protective!Steve, atmokinesis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-12-31 20:12:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12140205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caleprwrite/pseuds/caleprwrite
Summary: “You're okay, you're safe.” The man driving spoke softly.Something about the deep timbre of his voice sounded familiar and strangely comforting. You’d heard it before, but couldn’t for the life of you figure out where or when. There was sincerity in his tone- he truly believed what he was saying.Safe. Too bad he’s wrong.He couldn’t possibly know who you were running from or what they’d done to you. Even worse, what they’d do to him for getting in the way. He was in far over his head and it would only get him killed.





	1. You're Okay, You're Safe

**You're Okay, You're Safe.**

You shot up with a start and your eyes darted across the unfamiliar surroundings. Moving abruptly made the world around you spin uncontrollably and your stomach was not pleased. Once the spinning stopped, you realized you were in the front seat of a pickup truck, rattling along a dirt road in the middle of Fuck All North America. You shivered, looked down and saw you were covered with a worn out flannel jacket that smelled like pine trees with a hint of aftershave. You also realized your ankle was throbbing like a bitch, but had been taped up.

“You're okay, you're safe.” The man driving spoke softly. 

Something about the deep timbre of his voice sounded familiar and strangely comforting. You’d heard it before, but couldn’t for the life of you figure out where or when. There was sincerity in his tone- he truly believed what he was saying. 

_Safe._ _Too bad he’s wrong._

He couldn’t possibly know who you were running from or what they’d done to you. Even worse, what they’d do to him for getting in the way. He was in far over his head and it would only get him killed.

_Damnit!_ _How many more?_

“You’re not. You should have left me wherever you found me,” you muttered flatly. 

He glanced over at you from behind the steering wheel with a small, almost amused smile on his lips. His bright blue eyes danced with it before he schooled his expression back to stoic nonchalance. It was possibly the most patronizing look you’d seen in a long time. 

_ This guy. This. Fucking. Guy. _

“I can’t…” your voice broke, the anger welling up in your chest. It only pissed you off more. You hated the fact that you cried when you were angry, it always made people think you were weak. 

“I  _ won’t _ let anyone else get dragged into this because of me,” you snapped. “What the-!?” 

You yelped when something cold and wet nudged your cheek. The man snorted back a laugh at your reaction.

“Dodger, sit,” he commanded. You heard a muted whiny grumble come from the dog in the back seat.

“Where are we?” 

“Olympic National Park.” 

_ Wow. So fucking helpful.  _

“Where the hell is that?” you asked, pinching the bridge of your nose and finding it harder to hide your annoyance.

“Uh, Washington State?”

You snorted in frustration and shook your head,  _ slowly _ this time. His answers were about as helpful as you were polite. Your conversation was going nowhere fast.

“I’m sorry. Can we start over?”

He gave you a quick once over, then relaxed his large frame and slouched toward the center console of the truck. 

“Got a name?”

“Mari, you?” you offered and stuck your hand out.

“Steve,” he answered and took your hand gently. 

His touch was warm and comforting in an oddly unfamiliar way. A nice change from the past… well the past forever, really. You took him in. He had a strong profile and striking blue eyes. His darkish blond hair was a little shaggy but looked nice with his barely there beard. He still didn’t look familiar, so you figured maybe he was one of those people. You sat quietly and tried to figure out at least what direction you were headed, but all you could see was gray sky, trees and the damned fog. 

_ Where the hell is the sun?  _

“Where are we going?” 

In your periphery, you saw him peer at you again.  

“Back to my place. Get you cleaned up, something to eat, rest properly. How long you been running?”

“I’m not sure,” you blurted before thinking and he nodded knowingly. You deliberately shut your pie hole. He was entirely too easy to talk to but the less he knew, the better off you both were.

You sat in silence and let your mind wander. You were sure you’d been on the run for at least three days now, give or take however long you were out of it before he found you. You were beat to hell, hungry, exhausted and covered in dried blood thanks to the goddamned mountain lion that decided you looked like a savory meal. 

_ Fuck mountain lions. Fuck the forest. Fuck all of it. _

You sighed and closed your eyes, trying to keep the colors of the forest from blending together. Your vision kept changing from crystal clear to blurred and it made you want to hurl. 

Steve turned down a winding gravel road. Driveway. Whatever. It was at least a mile long so you were calling it a road. There were tall trees surrounding the road, which seemed to be carved right out of the forest floor. After crossing a wooden bridge over a small river, you rounded the bend and saw an unassuming log cabin perched on a hill.

He pulled the truck around the side of the house and the massive cuddle beast behind you couldn’t contain his excitement. The moment Steve got out a brown and white ball of fur jumped between the seats and followed him. You unwrapped yourself from the flannel and saw Steve come around to your side just as you hefted open the passenger door of the giant truck.

“Woah, hang on a minute,” he called and caught you before you hit the ground. 

“No, it’s- I got it...” you grumbled stubbornly and he gently set you down on your own feet. “Ow, fuck!” you whimpered as a sharp pain shot straight through your ankle. Your surroundings were spinning again and you instantly regretted being stubborn. Steve just stood nearby, waiting patiently with an odd nostalgic smile on his face. 

Because you hated depending on anyone, you were currently your own worst enemy. Honestly, if you could have kicked yourself in the ass, you totally would have. You swallowed down your last ounce of pride and asked for help, hoping maybe he’d offer an arm or something to hang onto while you hobbled. Instead, he picked you up bridal style like you weighed no more than a feather. You weren’t tall, but still, you weren’t used to being scooped up like you weighed nothing either. 

“Uhm- thanks,” you offered quietly. He was being far nicer to you than you deserved, considering you were acting like an ungrateful shit. And  _ God,  _ he smelled good.

He smiled down at you before turning his head back and calling, “Dodger, come!”

Steve kicked open the door and set you on the kitchen counter like a bag of groceries, but nicer… like maybe you were a carton of eggs or something. He turned to go back to the truck and the furball- Dodger- sat obediently in front of you. He turned his head just in time to see his master bring in a double arm full of groceries. 

_ Hah. Groceries. _

“Where did you find me?” you asked.

“I was on my way back from the market. You were passed out just off the road,” he explained as he put away the meat and vegetables from another bag.

You thought hard, vaguely remembering seeing a road when you were making your way down one of the many mountains you’d dealt with in the past few days.

“Got a mean right hook on ya, too,” he teased and flashed a lopsided grin, rubbing his jaw dramatically. You blushed and stared at the floor in embarrassment. 

“Sorry about that,” you said quietly. Here this nice guy, a complete stranger stopped to see if you were even alive and decided to help you. How did you repay him? Clocking him in the fucking jaw. 

_ What a shame, too. It’s such a beautiful jaw. _

“Nah, don’t apologize. You gotta be a fighter to survive out there. Yeah?” 

You smiled and nodded, which you instantly regretted. The Universal Swirly returned and you fell forward, right into Mr. Beautiful Jaw’s chest.

“Oh, God. Sorry. Again.” You braced your hands against his chest and shoulders, and tried to right yourself. 

“How about I get you to the couch? Should be harder to hurt yourself there,” he teased. You were again scooped up and deposited carefully. He grabbed a pillow from the sofa and tucked it under your left ankle. Before leaving he gave it a quick inspection and frowned. There were strips of fabric wrapped around it, held tightly in place with duct tape. “It’s not the best brace, but I had to improvise after I set it.”

You tried not to wince at the movement and instead thanked him, grateful the spinning stopped once you were lying down. You dropped your arm over your face and closed your eyes. You drifted off to the sounds of him rummaging in the kitchen.


	2. ‘Project Jezebel’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: This chapter delves into the circumstances of Mari's abuse by HYDRA.  
> Forced human experimentation, torture and suicide are referenced.

**‘Project Jezebel’**

“Hey, Mari, you hungry?” Steve asked in a soft, deep voice. Your eyes popped open and you bolted upright before you remembered where you were. Completely dizzy again, you fell back in frustration. You pressed the heels of your hands against your eyes and fought back the vertigo.

“It’s okay, just go slow,” he soothed. He gently squeezed your shoulder with his warm hand and helped you sit up slowly. 

“Thanks.” 

You took the plate he offered and admired the hearty turkey sandwich. Steve joined you in the living room and shared a large piece of turkey with Dodger. The three of you ate quietly, and after you started to feel a little more human, you spoke up. 

“Where you from, Steve?” 

“Brooklyn, originally.”

“Kinda far from home, no?”

“What can I say?” he shrugged. “Sometimes a guy needs a change of scenery.” He gently fed another chunk of meat to Dodger and then took some for himself. “How about you? Where’s home?”

Your brow furrowed and you thought about his question. It wasn’t that simple. Growing up in the foster system then being on the streets didn’t exactly result in one specific place, especially one warm and fuzzy enough to call home.  

“San Diego, I guess.” It was as close as you could come to an answer. The warm beaches there were one of the few places you felt like yourself.

He nodded thoughtfully and fed Dodger another bite of turkey. “You gonna tell me who you’re runnin’ from? You’d be surprised how helpful I can be.”

You blinked at him and tried to keep your mouth from gaping open at his matter of fact question. There he went again, reading you like a comic book. You were hesitant to admit to anything. To say you had trust issues would be the understatement of the century. He sensed your anxiety and smiled again, almost an apologetic expression on his face.

“How about… Now that you’ve eaten, I’ll help you to the guest room so you can clean up and get some rest. Your injuries from whatever attacked you have already healed over, so I’m assuming you’re enhanced in some way? That broken ankle is gonna take a while longer, though.” 

He took your empty plate and you stared after him dumbly. 

_ How did he know you healed abnormally fast? And why did he act like it was no big deal? _

When he returned, you narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. 

“What makes you think I’m  _ enhanced, _ and why does that seem like such a normal thing to you?”

You felt your senses sharpen and your vision became crystal clear, abnormally so. You swore you could hear the strong, steady and rhythmic thumping of his heartbeat. It was slower than your own but so, so strong.

He stood across the room from you with his hands resting on his hips and flashed a little smile while ducking his head shyly. One hand went to rub the back of his neck and he asked, “You ever heard of Captain America?”

“Yeah…” 

_ Duh. Who hadn’t? _

“Well, my last name’s Rogers,” he said like that explained something. And maybe it was the days you spent wandering in the  _ freaking forest, _ but that didn’t help any.

“Steve Rogers…” he said slowly, giving you the time you needed to connect the metaphorical dots.

Your eyes widened and so did the space between your upper and lower jaw. You blinked up at him. You were sitting in Captain America’s living room.  _ That’s _ why he was able to lift you without so much as a breath of effort.  _ That’s _ why he figured out you were on the run, and  _ that’s _ why someone being “enhanced” made perfect logical sense to him.

“Holy shit! You- you’re Captain America?” Now you knew why his voice seemed so familiar. It had to be from the PSAs. Now you understood, it made so much more sense. 

_ Wait. Except for the part where he was living alone in the forest in the middle of God’s nowhere.  _

“But, what the hell are you doing all the way out here?”

“Nope,” he replied, popping the “p”. “You first. I just gave you enough information to cause me a load of problems.” He sat down on the coffee table across from you, propped his elbows on his knees and faced you expectantly.

You huffed a sigh. Luckily you weren’t picked up by some random serial killer in the woods. The least you could do was give the man a piece of your story. He might even be able to help you.

“I uh, made a lot of mistakes after I aged out of the foster system. Had to learn my lessons the hard way, you know? Anyway, I was arrested and some guy posted my bail. In exchange I had to enroll in a rehab program, even though I never used drugs. Like, _ever- I_ _swear._ Not like I had any other options, so I agreed to it.”

Steve leaned in and his brow furrowed. He was listening intently and nodded for you to go on, so you took a deep breath.

“I wasn’t alone. There was a group of about ten of us women. Some had a history of drugs, prostitution, or just homeless like me, whatever.” You paused, shaking your head like you could shake the memories off. It didn’t work, just made you dizzy again but you shoved down the feeling.

“Over the course of a few weeks they got us nice and healthy, only to shoot us up... I don't even know what they gave us. Half of the girls died within a week. They started having really bad seizures and just never came out of it.” 

You met his eyes and his expression was kind. You swallowed hard over the lump forming in your throat. He nodded to go on.

“The scientists there, they said we were the strong ones, that we should be proud to move on to ‘Project Jezebel’.” 

Recognition flashed across his face when you said the name and it made the hair on your arms stand on end. You shivered. 

“We were all locked up. They wouldn’t tell us where we were, and when we were allowed out, they ran us into the ground. Literally. Two more girls died. The exertion, it was just too much for them.” You stopped talking and stared down at your hands which were clutching each other. You tried desperately to get a hold on your emotions. You breathed deep and the forced the air out with a shudder.

“I’m sorry,” he said gently and put a warm hand on your knee. 

You held your head in your hands as you continued. “I’ve never been pushed so hard in my life. If we refused to do what they said, they would beat us. If they thought we weren’t trying hard enough, they would beat us. Sometimes they did it for no reason. There was a room with a metal table, and...” you choked on the words. 

_ The table… Oh, God.  _

After taking a few slow, deep breaths, you continued. “I was so scared, I thought I was gonna die too. The beatings and the- I couldn’t do it anymore.” Your voice cracked and the tears finally broke free, flowing unobstructed down your cheeks and into your lap.

You forced out more between sobs. “They put us through more infusions, and... said we’d heal faster if our bodies didn’t go into rejection. They said we had to repeat the program.  _ All of it.” _

You wiped your eyes before meeting Steve’s directly. “That night I woke up and found the other two in the bathroom… in a pool of blood. There was so much blood. They broke the mirror and… they killed themselves rather than go through it again.” 

“Oh, God. Mari, I’m so sorry,” he breathed. His words were honest but all it did was piss you off. 

_ “No!”  _ you snapped and shook your head. You felt like an asshole for yelling at him. “You don’t  _ understand,  _ Steve. We talked about it, the three of us, but I begged them not to do it. When I found them? My first reaction? I was so fucking angry! They left me alone.  _ They left me!”  _

You buried your face in your hands and sobbed. Your body shook and your stomach felt like it was twisting in knots. You were disgusted with yourself for being angry at the others because they ended their own suffering. 

_ What kind of monster thinks like that? _

You felt warm arms enveloping you and you were pulled against a strong chest. Steve held onto you patiently while you let it all out. You finally allowed all of the fear, exhaustion, disgust and anger pour out of your body as you shook. You fisted your hands into the front of his shirt.  

_ “They left me, and- and I was mad at them for it! What kind of- of monster does that? I just didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t care that they were suffering too, I just- oh, God! I didn’t want to be alone!”  _

He held you patiently and after your breathing began to level out, Steve spoke in a firm and reassuring tone. “It’s not your fault.” He held your shoulders and pushed you back far enough to make eye contact. “I didn’t get to you in time. None of this is your fault, okay?”

You blinked up at him and saw anger, plain as day written across his face. 

_ “What?” _

“It’s why I’m here. SHIELD we got intel that HYDRA had a facility where they were going to experiment on women. We narrowed it down to this area. I’ve been looking for their facility for almost a month.” 

You didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t his fault. He was close, obviously, if you made it far enough on foot for him to find you. Still to think someone knew, and that you could have been rescued. You and so many others…

“Mari,” he reached out but stopped before touching your face, realizing it wasn’t a good idea when you flinched away reflexively. “ I’m _so_ _fucking sorry_ I didn’t get to you in time.”

You told yourself to not think about the  _ what ifs, _ it wouldn't do any good. You felt the food from earlier coming back up, so you hobbled quickly to the small washroom and promptly emptied the contents of your stomach. 

You rose and clutched the counter until you felt steady again. You rinsed your mouth in the sink and splashed cold water over your face. The dull eyes that stared back at you in the mirror were barely recognizable. You normally soft cheeks were gaunt. There were dark circles under your eyes and deep lines where once there had been none, giving you the appearance of many added years. 

_ How is this my life? _

Your entire body shivered and a wave of nausea and exhaustion ran through your frame. All you wanted to do was get clean and lie down. 

“Can I still use that room?” you asked quietly, when you opened the door and limped back to the living room. Dodger followed you protectively and stood by your side. Steve was on the phone and while you waited for him to finish, you steadied yourself with your hand lightly on Dodger’s head, scratching idly behind his ear.

“It’s just her, but there were ten…  _ Yeah, I know, Nat,” _ he snapped, then sighed. “Sorry, that wasn’t- I just,” he sighed again. “You'll understand when you meet her… Uh, everything? Same as you I guess? Right. I’ll see you guys in the morning. Thanks, Nat.”

He turned back to you and smiled softly. “That was my team. I have a couple of people coming in the morning. We’ve got a lot of work to do.” He looked to Dodger and nodded at the way he was protectively glued to your side. “I’m sorry, you asked me something when you came out?”

“I, uhm… was just hoping for a shower and maybe a place to sleep? If it’s not too much trouble, then I’ll be out of your hair in the morning. I just- I think I need to lay down.”

“What? No. You don’t have to leave. I’d, uh, rather you stayed, actually,” he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Come on, it’s just through here,” he nodded and held out his arm to help you down the short hall. He flipped on the light and you entered a cheerful guest room that was at least twice the size of anything you’d ever seen growing up. There was a large bed, a dresser, desk and a walk-in closet. Attached to it was a full bathroom.

“Let me get that tape off of your ankle.” He pulled apart the duct tape effortlessly with his bare hands. When he finished he shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels after clearing his throat. “I’ll uh, bring you some clean clothes. Tomorrow Natasha is bringing you some more things.”

“Thank you Steve,” you said and gave him a tired smile. “I, uhm, really don’t want to get in the way or anything.” 

“No, never.” He shook his head, ”It’s the least I can do. I’ll be right back.”

He returned with a grey t-shirt, plaid flannel shirt and a pair of boxers and socks. “ I hope these’ll work for now. I’m right out there, and my room’s across the hall if you need anything, okay?” A faint blush dusted his cheeks. You couldn’t help but smile too. It probably wasn't every day Captain America gave a woman his boxers to sleep in.

“Thanks again,” you called as he left the room. He turned back and smiled over his shoulder on the way out. You looked down and saw Dodger sitting in front of you, waiting expectantly and patted him on the head.

“Dodger, come,” Steve commanded from the living room. He happily followed after his master. You smiled when you heard Steve tell him quietly, “Let her have a few minutes, okay bud?”

After a warm, relaxing shower you dried your hair with the towel and dressed in Steve’s clothes. He was right, the shirt was huge on you, but so soft and comfortable. The boxers actually fit well. You snorted a laugh, remembering a meme you’d once seen comparing the famous Captain to a Dorito. They weren’t kidding about the shoulder to waist ratio. 

You opened the bathroom door and saw Dodger sitting patiently in the bedroom doorway. 

_ So that's how it’s gonna be. _

When you crawled under the covers you sank into the warmth of the flannel sheets and quilt. Your body slowly relaxed into the soft mattress. You looked back to the doorway to see Dodger sigh contentedly before walking away. Your head hit the pillow and you were greeted with deep, dreamless, exhaustion-induced sleep. 


	3. Enhancements. Nice.

**_Enhancements. Nice._ **

The morning sun softly filtered through the curtains. Sounds of quiet voices and the delicious smell of breakfast drifted down the hall. You stretched the length of your body and saw Dodger sleeping on top of the quilt by your feet. It made you smile, seeing how quickly he'd taken to guarding you. Waking up like that almost felt like a dream, like something you'd wished for so many times as a child. It was wonderful but it all felt too good to be true. 

That's when you remembered it was. 

An emptiness grew in your chest. This wasn't your home. The people in the other room weren't your family and Dodger wasn't some pet you'd grown up with. This wasn’t a home at all, it was a SHIELD safehouse. One hiding you mere miles from a facility where nine others died. A facility dedicated to deadly experimental procedures and guards whose sole purpose it was to torture you to the point of breaking.

You felt the forest filling with the clouds and fog you loathed. A dark, shadowy thought crept in. Maybe it  _ would _ have been best all around if you had ended it all yourself. But just thinking that made you shudder. No. You had to learn to deal with this.

_ My opinion doesn't matter. It never has.  _

This was your new reality. Now you had accelerated healing, enhanced vision and hearing, and fuck all what else to get used to. Apparently part of your new reality also included a protective furball. That... well, you could get used to that part. You carefully stood and waited for the familiar pain to shoot through the ankle Steve told you was broken, but it never came. 

_ Enhancements. Nice. _

After brushing your teeth you wrapped the long flannel shirt around your smaller frame as a makeshift robe and joined the others in the kitchen. Breakfast smelled delicious and since you hadn’t been able to keep down your sandwich the evening before, you were starving.

You entered to find a red-haired woman leaning against the counter. She was fair skinned and about your same build, just taller. Next to her was a man with light brown hair, tanned skin and a medium build. They both looked unassuming in casual clothes, but you knew that since they were part of Steve’s team, they had be anything but ‘normal’. 

Steve looked up as you entered the room, and you smiled shyly. You felt exposed and insecure joining them wearing what you were, so you held tighter to the flannel that was wrapped around your body. 

The others, Natasha and Clint as you heard Steve call them, turned and greeted you. Clint gave you a warm smile and shook your hand and Natasha greeted you with a small nod and quiet evaluation, which made you feel even more apprehensive. Steve must have noticed because he quickly gave you the bag they’d brought.

“Nat brought ya some things. Go ahead,” he nodded toward the bedroom, ”we’ll eat when you’re dressed.”

You thanked them and almost tripped over Dodger when you turned back.

“Dodger! What’s up buddy?” Clint called excitedly and crouched down to hug him. They promptly began wrestling on the floor. You laughed in amusement at Clint’s antics. Even Natasha had to roll her eyes and smile. 

Outside, the sun finally peeked through the clouds and you hoped maybe the fog might just burn off a bit. You peered back at the scene in the living room one more time. Maybe these two weren’t half bad afterall. Either that or Dodger just loved everyone.


	4. Yes, When

**Yes,** **_When_ **

In the bag, there were some standard issue SHIELD clothes. Hoodies, sports bras, some underwear and a few t-shirts and leggings. Luckily, the clothes fit you just fine. Even if they hadn't, you weren't in any position to complain. You dressed quickly and returned to the kitchen only to walk in on Natasha grilling Steve about you.

“...Yeah, I’m thinkin’ that’s what it is. She was attacked by something. The wounds were almost completely gone even though the blood on her clothes was still fresh. When I set her ankle, she was completely out of it but she fought back  _ hard.”  _

“That's it?” Natasha asked skeptically. 

He shrugged. “Might be more enhancements that either haven't manifested yet or she's not aware of. I'm sure we'll find out,” he answered simply and you bit back a small smile. You liked Steve, you might even trust him.  

“Thank you for the clothes, Natasha.” 

She turned to you and nodded with a small smile before handing you two plates of food to take to the table. 

“So Mari, tell us... Who are you and what can you do?” she asked matter of factly once you were all seated.

“Uhm… Well, like I told Steve, they said it was called ‘Jezebel’. There were ten of us…” your voice trailed off and you swallowed hard before you cleared your throat to continue. “I heal pretty fast but that's all. The doctors there… They, uhm, kept measuring recovery time.”

Natasha listened with narrow eyes and evaluated your response. She clearly was not buying it, but you weren't sure if you wanted to share the vision and hearing changes quite yet. You felt like she didn't trust you, and that feeling was totally mutual. Besides, she was the famous Black Widow. You were  _ fairly fucking certain _ that anything she could possibly find out about you, she already knew. Hell, she probably knew more about your history than you knew yourself.

All the scrutiny made you acutely uncomfortable and you felt your breathing and heart rate quickening. You felt like like you were under a microscope, the way she studied you and it made you panicky.

“Dude, what's with all the wind? Is it usually like this?” Clint interrupted. Your wide eyes darted to the windows and you saw the trees outside rocking in the heavy winds.

Steve leaned closer, recognizing your distress. He put a warm hand on your shoulder, and spoke quietly to you. “It's okay, Mari. You're safe here, remember?”

You nodded and closed your eyes. His tactile reassurance brought about a sense of warmth, enough for you to calm your mind and focus on your breathing. Your heart rate finally began to slow. No one ever had this much of an effect on you, the way he could calm you with a simple touch. You felt it again when you looked into his eyes, at his soft smile _. _

_ God, this is going to hurt when it’s over. _

Across the table Clint had stopped eating and stared at you. His mouth was parted curiously and his eyes shifted between you, Steve and the windows. 

“Huh,” he muttered before he shrugged casually. “Cool. Looks like we can add weather control to the list.”

_ “What? _ No, that wasn’t- I didn’t…” You blinked at Steve’s hand on your shoulder and realized it was an entirely possible theory. 

“Look Mari, I know you’ve had a lot of shit to deal with in a short amount of time, but we need you to be honest.” Natasha leaned forward on her elbows and tried for a more friendly tone. “You obviously trust Steve. And he trusts us, right?”

You nodded. Steve settled his hand across the back of your shoulders and gave you a small smile. “They’re my family.”

You melted into his touch. “I’m honestly not sure  _ what _ they did to me. There were some days I was barely conscious. I noticed my vision and hearing is sometimes insanely sharp, but I don’t know if I can control that.”

“I knew there was more,” Natasha sat back with a satisfied smirk curling her lips.

Clint looked to Steve and he nodded. “We’ll work with you on this, okay? See what you’re capable of, but also train you to defend yourself for when they come for you.”

_ “ _ What do you mean  _ when _ they come for me?” you asked, the panic setting back in.

“He said  _ when,” _ Natasha repeated, “because they will. You’re the only one who made it through the program alive, so you’re way too valuable for them to just let you go. But that’s where we come in, okay? Don’t worry. We’ll protect you, and teach you to protect yourself. We can start today, so eat your breakfast. You’ll need the energy.”


	5. Focus

**Focus**

Working with weapons came first. After breakfast, the four of you converged on the back porch and targets were set up. Clint shrugged off his bow and quiver and set them next to the array of guns Natasha had just laid out. Steve's shield rested against the table leg.

You trailed your fingers lightly over the assortment and you recognized a few from the time you spent with your last foster family. The dad there was a retired firearms safety instructor and the family was kind. It was a good run until the housing bubble burst. Unfortunately, when they lost their house you were sent back to another shitty group home. By that time you were a teen so nobody else wanted you.

“I know this one, “ you offered. “It’s a P320, right?” You picked it up and checked the chamber and clip. It fit well in your hand. Natasha arched a pleased brow at the confident way you handled the weapon.

“Start with that one,” Steve nodded as he leaned against the post.

Natasha took point. She fired off three shots at the human silhouette target hanging on a tree about 50 yards away. The next target was a large circle with a smaller one to each side. She let loose six more rounds in that direction. Once she finished she retrieved the targets and returned with a satisfied smirk. On the silhouette, two hit center-mast and the third was a perfect headshot. You picked up the smaller circular target and saw she and nailed each circle twice, right in the star.

“Ready Mari?” Steve asked.

You replaced the clip, took position and aimed at the new targets that hung in the same places. You felt your nerves kick in and the wind started up again.

_Please no, is this shit gonna happen every time I’m nervous?_

“Focus, Mari,” Steve spoke quietly in your ear. He stood just behind you with his hands on your shoulders and continued. “Feel the weight in your hands. Hold it confidently, but don’t squeeze it too tight.”

You did as he instructed and concentrated on the feel of the gun in your hands. Positive  memories of target shooting with your foster family returned. It surprised you, how clear they were since it had been nearly ten years. The swirling winds reduced to a gentle breeze and your vision sharpened. You were laser focused on the targets.

“Now line the sights with the target… When you’re ready, don’t pull hard. Stay calm and just squeeze. Let the weapon do its job."

You aimed for the same shots Natasha took, two center-mast and one between the eyes. You then moved to the circular targets, one large and two small and aimed for the star bullseyes. It was cathartic, squeezing the trigger and controlling the gun’s minimal recoil. Immense satisfaction flooded you and with your sharpened vision, you could already see the results.

Steve jogged out to bring the targets in and returned with a smile. He unfolded them and laid the out on the table in front of you. While your shots weren’t quite as exact as Natasha’s, they were _pretty fucking close._

“Nice work kid!” Clint praised and gave you a friendly pat on the back.

After cycling through the rest of the firearms, you settled back on the P320. When modified, it was perfect. You preferred it set for 40mm, that way you could have the same familiar comfort of the grip but with more power behind your shots.

That afternoon was busy to say the least. Natasha began training you to handle a blade in a knife fight. Clint went over distance shots, and while you didn’t completely suck, you definitely excelled at using handguns over rifles.

“Don’t beat yourself up, kid. Not everyone can be the Amazing Hawkeye,” Clint teased as he stood in the cheesiest superhero pose possible, hands on his hips and his head turned so he could scowl dramatically into the distance.

You laughed at his ridiculousness and walked out to retrieve your distance targets. You took your time, relaxing into the peaceful stillness of the forest and breathing in the fresh air. Clint and Natasha were growing on you. You finally felt more at ease with them.

_Weather control, huh?_

Clint was convinced that was part of the package, but you still weren’t on board. It was all so bizarre, so much to take in. It didn’t make sense, surely you weren’t capable of something like that.

You frowned, and the same frustration you felt when trying to figure out where you were when you were wandering in the forest returned. Around you, the fog thickened. It seemed to happen every time you felt frustrated.

You scowled as the air changed, and you felt the temperature drop a few degrees. More cloud cover rolled in, thickening in the air between you and the cabin to the point where you couldn’t see more than a few feet in any direction.

_Shit. Not the smartest thing I’ve done all day._

You couldn’t see the cabin. Your heart rate quickened and so did your breathing as panic set in. You needed to get back. Wind swirled around you, whipping your hair around your face violently. You could hear the trees swaying and you became dizzy. The wind swirled faster, constant and violent against your skin and you closed your eyes, demanding yourself to focus with everything in your being.

_Goddamnit, Mari. Focus!_

When you opened your eyes, your vision had sharpened exponentially. The fog remained outside of the windy vortex but it no longer hindered your sight. It was there, and thick, yet somehow at the same time transparent to your vision.

“Mari! Where the hell are you?” you heard Clint holler. He nocked an arrow against his bow and prepared to fire if needed. Natasha grabbed a gun and searched in the distance for you as well.

“I’m right here!” you called back. The surge of power you felt when you finally accepted it was your will that changed the air was exhilarating. You scowled to see what would happen and the clouds thickened further.

Steve also charged into the fog and yelled, “Mari! Come back in!” He advanced further into the thick clouds and searched every direction, unable to see you through it. He stood at the ready with tension in his shoulders and his shield in hand.

“Fuck,” you heard him mutter under his breath as he shook his head. “I can’t lose you, Mari.”

You blushed because you knew you weren’t supposed to hear that. He sounded so worried and you felt like an asshole for doing that to him. They were all armed and at the ready, prepared to defend you. You didn’t want to worry them. Mostly, you didn’t want to worry _Steve_.

He turned and bellowed, _“Mari!”_

“I’m okay,” you called back.

How could you fix this? You raised your face in the direction of the sun, which you could also see through the thick clouds and fog. You relaxed your body into it, and the cloud cover dissipated.

_Oh my God, Clint was right. I fucking did it!_

When Steve saw you, the tension in his shoulders visibly relaxed. He ran over to you and gently pushed your hair back off your face, searching you for any sign of injury. The deep line in the middle of his brow relaxed when you met his eyes and smiled up at him.

 _“Jesus,_ Mari,” He breathed. “What happened? Are you okay?” His warm hand slid down to the side of your neck and rested there. He pulled you into a hug and buried his face in your hair as he sighed in relief.

When he let go, you looked up and beamed breathlessly. “I can do it, Steve! I made it happen, all of it!” Your eyes sparkled and you were dizzy with pride. “The fog, the wind… even the heat from the sun’s rays… and-”

A rushing sound flooded your ears and everything immediately went black.


	6. Not. Pouting.

**_Not. Pouting._ **

You woke up on the couch in the living room wrapped in blankets like a burrito. Steve was sitting next to you on the coffee table, texting someone. You blinked up at him and looked around.

“Hey, there she is,” he said softly and smiled when he saw you moving. He reached out and felt your forehead and the worried look returned. “You're still cold. How are you feeling?”

You tried to sit up, but he shook his head. “No, don't get up yet. We should have thought it out better. You still have recovering to do from being on the run so long, and who knows how this weather control is affecting you.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll be okay, I really want to work with you guys more.” A chill came over you and you buried yourself deeper. “God, I’m so exhausted.”

_Way to show how tough you can be, Mari. Good job. Not. Pouting._

“Don’t apologize,” he said shaking his head and giving you a sweet half-smile. “Rest, please. ‘Sides, we can use more time to review the new intel Stark sent. Let’s get you in bed now, yeah?”

You sighed, resigned to the fact that he was right. The exhaustion wasn’t going away. Steve scooped you up with a smile and Dodger followed the two of you back to your room. He jumped up on the foot of your bed and waited patiently for you.

When Steve left, he closed the door over and you stripped down to your underwear. You slipped into his soft flannel shirt and climbed up onto the bed. There really was nothing better than that shirt. Maybe you just liked it because it smelled like Steve, but you’d never admit that to the free press.

You wiggled deeper under the covers so as not to disturb Dodger and he crawled closer to you, slowly, waiting to see if you approved. You smiled and patted the space next to you. When you began carding your fingers through his soft fur, he melted into your touch. The extra heat helped you relax. Not too long after, the pair of you were sleeping soundly.


	7. Fight Me!

**_Fight Me!_ **

The days flew by in a blur, packed with training lessons from both Natasha and Clint. You focused on everything- endurance, strength, self-defense and marksmanship. Your progress improved greatly no doubt thanks to the HYDRA infusions, and soon you were sparring close to on pace with Natasha.

Each night before you drifted to sleep you replayed the day’s events, searching for ways to improve your skills, planning new tactics. Over and over you repeated the mantra they taught until it became second nature.

_Stay low, go fast_

_Shoot first, die last_

_One shot, one kill_

_No luck, all skill_

Steve still refused to work out with you, though he carefully monitored your progress. Per his orders, you hadn’t had any more practice with weather manipulation, which you came to find out was actually called Atmokinesis. You actually laughed when you googled it. It sounded like something that would be brought on by getting caught in a post apocalyptic nuclear wasteland.

You were frustrated when Steve called off any kind of experimentation, but you also understood his point. There were still too many unknown variables. It was an unnecessary risk and took so much out of you physically last time. Still, you _really_ wanted to play around and see what you could do.

Natasha and Clint alternated with you and Steve for perimeter sweeps. Each time, you would walk the property edges, check the security feeds and do a visual inspection. You enjoyed the quiet time with Steve, and your conversations usually flowed easily. You’d tell him about growing up near San Diego and he’d regale you with stories of Brooklyn and life before the War.

“I see why we get along so well, then,” you smirked.

He just finished telling you about how his friend Bucky at times still lovingly referred to him as a scrappy little shit because of his tendency to pick fights. He cocked his head at you and smiled.

“Whaddaya mean?”

You shrugged. “You know, being little… You’re always being underestimated, right? Not taken seriously? People think it’s _cute_ when I get mad. That usually just pisses me off more.”

You looked up and saw him trying (unsuccessfully) to bite back a smile.

“Are you _kidding me_ right now, Steve?” you groaned. He threw his head back in laughter. “Stop it, I’m serious!” you grumbled and playfully shoved his arm.

“Oh, you’re _serious,_ huh?” he teased as you continued to walk.

You hip-checked him, which because of your size and being able n uneven terrain, ended up being laughably low. When he did the same back to you, you took the opportunity to spin out of the way. At the same time, you wrapped your arms around his hips and pulled in the direction of his momentum, causing you both to topple down to the forest floor. You rolled together and landed on top of him with an _oomph!_  

“Fight me!” you growled playfully.

You pushed your smaller hands down against his giant forearms and arched your brow in challenge. You had the superior position and you straddled his hips.

“Aww, you're learning,” he cooed from below you with a smirk.

It set you off like a bottle rocket; it was too easy, really. He knew exactly how to get you going and you played right into it.

You were just about to fire back a witty retort when he straightened his arms. The movement pulled your weight forward and he bucked his hips. It threw you off center, and he flipped you over, mirroring your previous hold.

"Now what are you gonna do, huh?" he taunted from above you.

In the process of struggling you managed to ‘put in the hooks’ which is what Natasha called keeping your legs wrapped around the outside of your opponent. This allowed you to keep leverage in your lower body, which was imperative when grappling. Unfortunately, that particular position also reminded you just how attracted you were to Steve. You'd be lying if you said you'd never imagined it before, but usually less clothes and prickly pine needles were involved.

Once you finally refocused you used your smaller stature to your advantage. First you brought your right knee up to slide your bent leg between yours and Steve’s bodies. You slammed your knee up against his chest, effectively thrusting him off and to the side while immediately climbing back on top and following up with an arm-bar.

“Good!” he praised from the flat of his back as you used your weight to try to bend his arm back.

_Good? But, why wasn’t he tapping out, or at least struggling?_

He laid there laughing for a moment, dramatically holding the spot of his chest where you’d kneed him. All it took was one flex of his bicep and he pulled you back to a sitting position. He looked up at you as you let go with a resigned smile.

Both of you were breathing harder than normal. He reached up and gently pulled a couple of pine needles from your hair. “You're gettin’ quicker, Mari, and that was good strategy. Maybe I’ll work out with you after all.”

You unwrapped your legs from Steve’s arm and chest and patted his abs. “You’ve just been fighting big bad guys too long. Us scrappy little shits have skills too, or have you forgotten?” You knew full well he allowed you to think you’d won with taking an arm-bar but the opportunity to tease him wasn't something you'd pass up- ever.

“Well, you're not wrong,” he admitted with a smile. He rose and pulled you to your feet and the two of you finished the perimeter sweep.


	8. Comer, Por Favor

**_Comer, Por Favor_ **

Once you began working on strength training, your appetite steadily increased, mirroring your level of exertion daily. One morning a few weeks in, you woke with a hunger that felt like it was gnawing straight through your gut. It was early enough that the sun was barely filtering in through the trees so you pulled on some socks and ventured out into the kitchen.

The thought of coffee and food was the only thing on your mind and you rubbed at your eyes with the heels of your hands. Stopping to think about the colossal bedhead you'd developed was the farthest thing from your concern.

You prepped and flipped on the coffee pot and rummaged through the cupboards, looking for something to cook. It would be a nice change to take a turn doing something for Steve and the others, considering how well they'd treated you. Once you had the coffee percolating and the breakfast items set out, you returned to quickly brush your teeth and pull your crazy curls back atop your head. A messy bun was good enough.

You returned to the kitchen and poured a cup for yourself and set out three more empty mugs. You moved quietly and efficiently, and by the time the others filed out there were pancakes and scrambled eggs keeping warm in the oven while you finished frying the ham.

You poured two more cups of coffee and Clint took his like a moth to a flame. The sound he made as he tipped his cup back was borderline obscene and you snorted a laugh. Rather than prepare her own, Natasha pulled the remainder of the cup from Clint’s grip and plopped down quietly at the table. After a few sips, her sleepy scowl lessened and she allowed Clint to finish the rest.

A few minutes later Steve padded out with Dodger happily at his heels and unlocked the dog door. He smiled sweetly over at you and mumbled a “good morning” to everyone. You wondered just how late of a night the others had on their call with SHIELD with as groggy as they all were.

“What can I help with?” Steve asked as he yawned and stirred his coffee.

“You can go set the table” you smiled and gave him a stack of plates and silverware.

He did as asked while you finished cooking. After you brought out the tall stacks of pancakes, warm bowl of scrambled eggs, fresh cut fruit and a plate of ham, three pair of eyes widened in hunger and anticipation.

“Wow Mari, you didn't have to do all this.”

“I really wanted to. You guys have all been so good to me.” you smiled softly. “I probably wouldn’t even be alive right now if...” your voice trailed off and an unexpected lump formed in your throat.

_If you hadn’t found me._

Steve reached over and squeezed your hand, and the two of you had a quiet moment of eye contact. You felt a slight blush warm your cheeks and you were hyper aware of Natasha observing silently, so you took a breath and met Steve’s eyes with a playful smile.

_“Comer, por favor.”_

He looked at you confused.

“She said eat, Steve,” Natasha translated before setting her gaze back on you. “Your Spanish is good, Mari.”

You shrugged. “Had a few different Spanish speaking foster families. It’s an easy language... ‘sides, living so close to the border it's hard _not_ to keep up with it. How many languages do you speak?”

“Eight, not including the individual dialects.”

Clint frowned and moved his hands at her. She rolled her eyes and nodded. “True. Nine, counting ASL.”

“Wow…” You raised your brows, you were impressed. The amount of talent these people possessed was crazy, and here you were, still pretty much a drifter.

 _“Comer, por favor,”_ she repeated back to you with a trademark Natasha smirk.

After the hearty breakfast, Clint and Natasha took off to run the morning perimeter sweep. You sat at the table with Steve and aimlessly ran your finger around the rim of your coffee mug.

“Thanks again for breakfast, Mari.”

His voice brought you back to reality. You waved a hand like it was nothing. “I’m glad you liked it. Been awhile since I cooked.”

You subconsciously sighed and shifted uncomfortably. There was a nagging feeling that wouldn't let you completely free of its grasp. It was constantly there, in the back of your mind. Sometimes silent, but never gone, and only getting worse by the day.

“Hey,” Steve said softly. “You wanna tell me what's on your mind?”

You blinked and shook your head the slightest bit, trying to put the feeling to words. “I just have this bad feeling. I guess I'm just still on edge from what HYDRA did to me and all. It's nothing.” You shrugged dismissively and shot him a forced smile as you rose to clear your mug.

You stood at the kitchen sink and loaded the rest of the dishes into the dishwasher. You watched Dodger through the window as he wandered the yard. He was curiously enthralled the birds flitting about. Suddenly, he stilled and the fur on his back raised. His lip curled and he let out a warning growl as someone drove up in a sedan.

“Get away from the window,” Steve commanded.

In a flash, he was up and at the door. He called Dodger to come in and closed the door behind himself. Dodger stood protectively in front of you and the muscles along his back twitched as he focused on his master just outside.

_Shit, where the hell were Natasha and Clint?_

You watched through the sheer window coverings and tried to listen over the thudding of your heartbeat in your ears. The wind picked up and you willed yourself to calm down. You heard Steve talking to the men outside in a friendly and casual tone, until one asked about a missing woman with your description.

“No. Sorry, haven’t seen anyone, being all the way out here and all. You should ask in town, though. Got a picture or somethin’?”

“Yeah, she’s our sister,” the shorter man said. “She has got a lot of mental health problems and our family’s been worried sick.”

_Oh God, that man’s voice. Fuck._

His voice brought back memories of dark rooms and broken bones. A shiver ran up your spine and your stomach dropped into your feet. You felt your lips and cheeks tingle as you tried to catch your breath. You were frozen in place, just like when you were on the metal table.

“Your sister, huh?” Steve's voice was no longer nonchalant. He seemed to stand taller and his shoulders squared against the two men.

They recognized the warning in his tone and the look in his eyes when he saw your photo. They drew their weapons and you heard the slick metal slide of guns being cocked.

Steve stilled for barely a heartbeat, eyeing the men before the next sounds were a single gunshot and the unmistakable thud of fists against flesh and bodies dropping to the ground.

“Steve!” you yelled, terrified that he had been shot. He had no protection, still in pajamas and not even his shield. A hand grabbed your arm and pulled you around the corner of the hall as a flash of red hair flew past and out the door, grabbing Steve’s shield on the way.

“Stay right here ‘till I come back,” Clint said as he pushed you against the wall. You blinked numbly as he rounded the corner, his bow drawn and an arrow nocked and ready. It all happened so fast. Dishwater still dripped from your hands.

Moments later, you heard the three of them dragging the two agents into the house. Clint groaned and teased Natasha.

“You just had to knock out the big one, Nat! I mean, shit! Do you see how heavy he is?”

“Quit complaining, Clint. At least _you_ didn't get shot,” Steve grumbled.

You didn't even try to stay put after hearing that.

“Oh my God! You're shot? Are you okay?” Clint just gave you an exasperated look when he saw you come into the room before he came back for you. Steve turned and flashed a sweet smile at you.

“I'm okay, Mari. It's just a flesh wound.” He motioned with his left hand to his right shoulder. He ripped off a strip of fabric from his tank and tied it around the uppermost part of his arm for a pressure dressing. It was bleeding, but he knew his body better than anyone so if he said not to worry, you had to trust him.

You sighed and your shoulders slumped in relief before you took in the scene before you. Two men. The shorter one was conscious and struggling. The other, the bald agent, Natasha had been a little more zealous with after Steve was shot. His head hung at a weird angle as he slumped unconscious against his bindings.

The shorter, dark-haired man, though his back was to you he was familiar. He seemed resigned to the fact that he was bound to a chair in the middle of the room. Even so, his posture looked like a man in control.

“You have no idea what you're up against,” he warned as Steve tightened his restraints. “Hand over the girl.”

"Never gonna happen.”

“She belongs to _me,”_ he spat back.

Your stomach did a disgusting flip and fear iced through your veins when the man said that.

_‘She belongs to me.’ The room with the metal table._

That’s what he would tell the others when he ordered them out so he could do to you as he pleased. Ungodly, horrific things. The images of the leather restraints cutting into your skin as you fought back, and the painful gag that prevented you from screaming flooded your mind.

Steve yanked the man’s head forcefully, wrenching his neck back and _growled, “She belongs to no one.”_

Clint shook his head as he casually stowed his bow and quiver against the hearth. “You should quit while you’re ahead, man,” he warned the agent.

Natasha saw you standing paralyzed in fear and pulled you back to your room. She sat you on the edge of the bed and faced you, standing patiently for a moment with her hands on her hips. You came to and blinked up at her.

“Look, Mari, I have work to do and it’s not going to be pretty. You don’t have to see this.” She arched a perfect red brow at you and waited for you to understand her meaning.

She was right. This was what they did best. Natasha and Clint were both spies _and_ assassins by trade. You shook your head.

“I have to face it.”

“Not right now, you don’t. Not like this.”

 _“Pero lo hago, y tengo que hacerlo ahora, Natasha.”_ You sighed and ran your hands down your face. _“_ _Cuando yo era un niña…_ _Mi padre_ _siempre_ _me dijo, ‘Intentaron enterrarnos. No sabían que éramos semillas.’”_

You stood, squaring your shoulders. You clenched your fists and prepared to face what had been done to you by one of the men responsible for it. You told her determinedly, “I can’t bury my fear. That one thing he taught me, everything we bury grows.”

She nodded once, silently, and lead you back to the living room.

The men were a bloodied mess, eyes swollen and noses busted. The conscious agent tracked your movement as you entered. He recognized you immediately. He spit in your direction before glaring back up at Natasha. She casually sauntered to the kitchen and returned with a dish towel to shove in his mouth.

“Now where are your manners, huh?” she taunted with a sly smirk.

He grunted around the towel and tried to say something but it was unintelligible.

“Nat…” Steve questioned, looking to you and back to her.

“I know,” she replied, “but she needs to see this.” He nodded, trusting her implicitly.

The anger and pain of everything you'd experienced burned bright in your eyes. You tried your best to keep a brave face, tapping into the rage that still smoldered in your heart when you looked upon the two agents. You watched Clint and Natasha work, tag teaming and extracting the information they needed. They were a well oiled machine and seemed to know exactly what the other was going to do before it even happened.

Steve stood protectively close to you with his arms folded across his chest. A scowl settled onto his face and he listened intently to the exchange. You looked at him out of the corner of your eye. It was obvious that while he wasn’t a fan of the methods Natasha and Clint used, he knew they were both necessary and effective. During a particularly tense part of the interrogation he moved closer and squeezed your shoulder gently. His face asked silently ‘ _are you sure you’re okay?’_

You nodded and leaned closer into his side, careful to eye the area where he’d been shot. He moved his arm and wrapped it loosely around your shoulders and pulled you further into his space. The warmth coming off of him gave you the feeling of security you needed to replay the days and nights in your mind, the conversations between the guards and scientists.

“Upstate!” you blurted and the team stopped to look at you. “I remember… When I was on the table, he said something about the new group _Upstate,_ soon.”

Natasha arched a brow at the man that was struggling to hold onto the last little shreds of his dignity. “Well?” she prompted. “Tell us about this new group, _Upstate._ ”

After some additional strong arming courtesy of the Dynamic Duo of Interrogations, the location and start date of the next round of Jezebels was identified. This group was locked in a facility in Upstate New York. They were currently detoxing the girls and experimentation rounds were set to begin the very next week.

They’d gotten what they needed. Steve nodded to Natasha and she delivered a knockout blow to the back of the man’s head with her weapon. He immediately slumped forward, unconscious and drooling blood from his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> “Pero lo hago, y tengo que hacerlo ahora, Natasha.” ~ "But I do, and I have to do it now, Natasha."
> 
> "Cuando yo era un niña… Mi padre siempre me dijo, ‘Intentat ron enterrarnos. No sabían que éramos semillas.’” ~ "When I was a little girl ... My father always told me, 'They tried to bury us. They did not know we were seeds. '"


	9. Was That A Fucking Arrow?

**Was That A** ** _Fucking_** **_Arrow?_**

"Send the intel to Hill, she can handle the facility here with Buck and Tony. Wrap it up STAT. We’ve got to get in before they start on the next group.”

You knew, better than the other two even, exactly how important is was to Steve they got to them in time. Natasha and Clint both acknowledged his instructions and cleared up the area they’d been using to _work._

“You’re gonna do good, Steve. I’m sure you’ll get them in time,” you murmured. His eyes met yours and they softened.

“Come with me, Mari. I want to show you somethin’,” he said as he threw on a flannel shirt.

You followed him out of the house and the two of you walked silently through a winding path in the forest and he laced his fingers with yours. Down the hill from where the house was built was an open meadow. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and entered a combination before pulling you closer to him.

“Watch your step,” he smiled.

And there, in the middle of the meadow, an airplane appeared. And it was _fucking unbelievable._ Your mouth dropped and your eyes shot from Steve, to the plane and back to Steve.

He threw his head back and laughed, a full, hearty, pure sound. He shook his head at you and smiled, his eyes dancing. “You’re adorable, you know that right?”

You laughed too and blushed.

“And just how do people _usually_ react to something like this? This your signature move for the ladies, Rogers?” You crossed your arms and kicked out your hip, which just made him laugh harder.

“It’s called a QuinJet. We’re taking it back to New York. Come, lemme show you.”

He pulled you toward the opened ramp, but you stopped abruptly when a pang of something you hadn’t yet defined hit you in the chest. It slammed into you, actually- they were leaving. Just the thought of never seeing Steve again hurt like a bitch.

_Don’t get attached, they’ll just leave._

You’d told yourself that dozens of times and yet here you were, again. Your heart was literally breaking in half, exactly the way you promised yourself it never would again. A thick cloud cover moved in and heavy raindrops began to fall.

Steve turned when you stopped, “What is it?”

You must have been wrong about the connection you thought the two of you shared. He had no idea, obviously didn’t feel the same. Jesus, how one-sided everything really must have been! The rain fell equally quickly as the realization hit you. You nodded.

_This was it, then._

“You guys be safe, huh?” you managed to croak out as you blinked back the tears that burned behind your lids.

“I don’t understand.” Steve looked up at the rain and then back at you. “This is you? Why?”

“I don't care if it’s raining. Maybe it’s how I feel, okay?”

“Mari, I know today, it's been- it was a lot for you to see,” he said. “It’s why I didn’t want you out there.” He sighed, “And now...” he motioned to the sky.

You met his eyes and shook your head. He actually thought this was because of the interrogation?

_“¿Sabes cuánto te amo? No se lo que a hacer sin ti, Steve.”_

Sure, it was chicken shit, saying something like that in Spanish, but you could only be so brave for so long. You needed something left over in your tank for when they all left.

“You know I don’t understand...” he said softly.

“I just… wished you guys good luck on your trip,” you mumbled and turned back to the house.

_Lies. Such a coward._

You frowned and continued walking. Your vision sharpened and you glanced up, through the clouds and cold rain and saw the sun was getting low. You had to get moving while it was still light outside. You briefly considered asking if you could stay in the house one more night and head out at dawn but didn’t. The agents were probably already reported missing, it wouldn’t be safe there anymore.

“Mari, what do you mean _our_ trip? You’re not coming? _Why?”_ Steve followed after you, but you didn’t hear him. Your thoughts drowned out his questions.

“Mari!” he pulled your arm and you turned back to him. “Come on Sweetheart, talk to me. What’s going on?”

_Sweetheart? Fuck it. It’s what I deserve for getting attached._

“What the hell do you want me to say, Steve?” you demanded. “You guys are leaving, _I get it._ It’s not my first rodeo, _okay?”_

This was your defense mechanism. You'd pick a fight and do the leaving before everyone left you. For years, that strategy gave you the thinly veiled illusion of choice, that it was somehow up to you. Still, you felt like a _Grade A Dick,_ yelling at Steve like that. He didn’t deserve it.

“But, where are you gonna go?”

“What does it matter? You guys are leaving!” You shot back and yanked your arm from his grasp. You took off toward the house. You knew you were being an ass but you didn’t care. They were leaving and you’d be on your own. Again.

_I don’t fucking care._

“Mari,” he called, but you ignored him. “Mari, _STOP!”_

You immediately froze in place. He’d never spoken to you like that, and you weren’t sure how you felt about being on the business end of his Captain America Is Done With Your Shit voice. You didn’t know if you should salute him, tell him to fuck off or throw your panties at him. Because let’s be real, it was _fucking hot._

Still, you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of anything but a scowl. You dug your proverbial heels into the ground and glared back at him with your arms crossed and your hip kicked out.

 _“What?”_ you bit back.

“Listen, I don’t…” he huffed as he stood in front of you. He shoved his hands against his hips in frustration. “I mean _Jesus,_ did you _not fucking hear anything_ I said back there?” he gestured back to the QuinJet. He was no longer hiding the irritation in his tone. Good.

“I _heard_ you. You guys are _leaving,_ back to New York. It’s- it’s fine, Steve. You don’t owe me anything, okay?” You shook your head and stared at the ground. “You've already done more than...” your voice cracked at the end and tears blurred your vision. You hugged your shoulders and shuddered out a breath.

_Damn him for getting under my skin like this and fuck me for letting him._

Steve pulled you close. Warm arms enveloped you in his strong embrace. You fisted your hands in his shirt and breathed in the familiar scent of aftershave with a hint of pine. _God,_ you were going to miss him so much.

You had been strong for too long. Clearly, you weren’t cut out for that shit so you finally just let it all go. You wrapped your arms around him and held on tight. You finally came to terms with everything that had been done to you, your fear of the changes your body had experienced and the anxiety from being face to face with the agent who’d tortured you. The hardest part to let go of was the joy you felt from experiencing being part of a family again after so long.

“Sweetheart, it's okay,” Steve soothed and his tone brought you back to that first day in the truck. He rubbed your back gently and kissed the top of your hair. _“_ I’m here. I’m not leavin’ you,” he spoke softly.

“But I thought- and you said New York... and you _are_ leaving.”

He gently cupped your jaw with his hands and searched your eyes. “Mari _, you_ are part of _us_. When are you gonna accept that, huh?” He smiled. The look on his face was loving and gentle. “Please, I want you to come with me.”

He softly wiped his thumbs across your cheeks.

 _Wait-_ he _wants_ me?

He wasn’t leaving you behind at all. He wanted you to come with him. That realization alone helped fill the empty, broken places in your heart.

“There she is, that’s my girl,” he breathed and beamed a smile at you, brushing his thumbs over your cheeks again.

You met his eyes, searching, completely speechless.

"I don't know if you've noticed,  _I want you, Mari. I want you so fuckin’ bad...”_ His eyes darkened as they roamed down to your lips, across the soft smile they curved into, then back up to the longing in your eyes. You barely nodded and he bent down closer. You felt his breath ghosting softly across your face before he brushed his lips against yours. His touch was feather-light at first, but then there was more sweet pressure.

You met him willingly. He deepened the kiss and your arms snaked up around his broad shoulders to his neck. There was both a tenderness and an insistence in his kiss, and each battled simultaneously for dominance. It made your heart leap into your throat and warmth pool in the pit of your belly.

Those big, warm hands drifted down to your hips where he gripped your waist and squeezed possessively before lifting you up and wrapping you in his arms. He ran the tip of his tongue across your lower lip and nudged your mouth open with his lips. You whimpered a tiny sound into his mouth when you tasted him, warm, and sweet and minty all at the same time. His tongue brushing against yours was velvety soft and it took your breath away. And then he did something with that tongue.

_Oh. My. God._

It was unexpected, and it made you whimper with want and need. You shuddered and he _growled_ into your mouth and turned to press you against the nearest tree. One hand ran down your hip and he gripped your thigh.

You followed his lead and wrapped your legs tighter around his waist. You moaned into his mouth, your fingers curled through his thick blond hair and you tugged gently which earned you a deliberate roll of his hips.

You felt his arousal straining against his zipper with the way he pressed against you so intimately. The heat from his mouth trailed down along your neck and you felt his teeth graze against your pulse. He sucked into the skin of your neck below your ear, marking you possessively.

You whimpered his name and he continued pressing hot, open mouth kisses on your neck and then back up to your mouth, swallowing all of your sounds greedily. There was a palpable electricity in the air between the two of you. He rolled his hips against you again and you whimpered louder.

 _“Fuck,_ Mari. The things you do to me,” he breathed against your neck. He tasted you again, dragging your lower lip between his teeth slowly in the process. He groaned and then pressed another soft, lingering kiss to your lips before resting his forehead against yours.

Your eyelids fluttered open and you met his darkened, brilliant eyes. They bored right through you and you lightly sucked your own lip, savoring the taste of his kiss.

You smiled and kissed him again, deep and dirty as you ground your hips against him. He growled into your mouth as he pressed back just as desperately. You heard the bark of the tree cracking from his grip and you rolled your hips again.

The world could spin on without you for all you cared, this was where you belonged. You didn’t even care about the bark biting into your back through the thin fabric of your clothes. You’d wear the marks proudly.

You heard a _fwhipp_ sound fly by as an arrow shot into the ground mere feet from the tree you were pressed against and beeped three times quickly. You threw your head back and laughed breathlessly.

“Was that a _fucking arrow?”_ you asked, knowing damn well what it was. The two of you smiled dumbly at each other as he placed you back on your feet. He kissed you again, softer this time.

“Come on, Sweetheart. Let’s not keep the Amazing Hawk _Guy_ waiting.” He pulled the arrow out of the soft ground and your hand and you walked back together.

“Lose somethin’?” Steve asked with a friendly challenge in his expression and tossed the arrow back at Clint.

“Uh,” Clint cleared his throat and continued, ”we’re ready whenever you are, Cap.” He did his best, but was unsuccessful in biting back his goofy smile.

Steve looked to the two prisoners and nodded, all business. The agent’s bleeding had stopped and they were cleaned up, but still unconscious. The equipment was stowed and ready in the bags and cases. Everything was ready to go and he visibly relaxed once.

Clint and Natasha were both dressed in their black tactical suits and looked ready for battle. It was very impressive.

“Hill’s team will sweep the place when they finish,” Natasha added as she strapped her last holster and gun to her thigh. She tossed you one with your favorite weapon and you did the same.

“Sounds good. Wheels up in ten.”

Natasha looked over to you with a knowing smirk after Steve left. “I packed your things up too, Mari. You’re not afraid of flying are you?”

You smirkedand shook your head, knowing she was just making small talk while observing you. It was pretty obvious you just had a mind-blowing makeout session given your kiss-reddened lips and the fresh marks on your neck and collarbone.

“I’m good, Nat. What do you want me to load up?” She nodded to the two cases and a backpack on the couch.

Steve walked out of his room fully dressed in his Captain America stealth suit and holstered his shield on his back. You raked your eyes over him and felt your cheeks flush and warmth pool in the pit of your belly. It took every last ounce of self control you had to not rip that suit right off of him in the middle of the room.

He met your gaze and winked at you through his mile-long eyelashes before flashing a predatory smile in your direction. And oh, God, he knew exactly what he was doing. He was driving you crazy. Your desire for him was intoxicating.

A bolt of lightning flashed outside followed immediately by a loud clap of thunder. Clint snorted a laugh. “Hey, either Thor’s coming to meet us or _someone’s_ weather control is getting a little _out of control,”_ he teased.

You blushed harder than ever and hid your face in your hands. It was embarrassing, but even you had to admit, hilarious.

Steve threw the larger agent over his shoulder and Clint hefted the smaller one. Each was dumped unceremoniously in the back of the truck. Between you and Natasha, the equipment was loaded and Dodger followed you into the cab. Steve drove the truck down to the QuinJet and up the cargo ramp.

After everything was unloaded, you turned to look back at another house you’d probably never see again.

Steve’s arms wrapped around from behind you and you leaned back against his chest. “You okay Mari?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you sighed softly before turning and meeting his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> “¿Sabes cuánto te amo? No se lo que a hacer sin ti, Steve.” ~ "You know how much I care about you? I don't know what to do without you, Steve. "


End file.
